The Shepherd 5: Laired
by lightcudder
Summary: Chapter 1 of part 5. 'The Shepherd' is now complete on my website. Five parts, comprising 150,000 words.


_Chapter 1 of The Shepherd: Part 5. No further chapters will be posted here, but the rest of the story can be found on my website. Link available on my profile. _

Even underground, the pale coloured walls were cold. Condensation trickled down to pool on the floor before disappearing through the narrow gaps between spongy tiles. A splash of sharp scarlet attracted the eye to the suits that hung on racks, their silvered helmets arrayed in rows above and a low thrumming resonated through the floor and walls from the machines that worked to keep the room habitable.

If one could call it a room. A circular space, straight walls taller than a man, topped by a low domed roof and, adjoining it, a similar dome of the same design. The whole no more than ten foot high. Any taller and they would have breached the surface, and just one part of the construction did that.

The UFO slipped under the water, manoeuvring with slow caution until it positioned itself over the one part of the structure that protruded from the earth.

An airlock; hidden by mud and undetectable to human systems. But this was not human. The small craft lowered itself onto the river bed and shuffled down into the deposits of thick mud. Metal hit metal with a solid clunk and the airlock opened to lift up into the compact interior of the craft. A wide tube with a sectioned ladder that ran the whole of its length, led down through the mud and clay and bed rock to form the link between the two domes. Not the most logical way to access the structures, but the safest way to do so without being exposed to the destructive forces of the atmosphere. Or to SHADO's ever vigilant scanners. Here, underwater and underground, the domes and their inhabitants were safe from detection.

The figure moved with hesitant steps down the ladder inside the tube, his limbs stiff and cramped. Down the tube until he reached an iris that slid open to allow him access into the lower section. Once he stood at the base of the tube he put his hand on the wall. Air hissed and the iris sliced across the tube again, cutting off the lower part. He was now isolated in this small and contained airlock. He waited, a clear panel allowing him to see through into the dome.

Another hiss of air as pressure equalised then the curved door slid sideways into the double walled tube to allow him into the larger of the two domes.

They were waiting for him. Submissive and silent as protocol decreed. They helped remove his helmet, helped him take those first gasping breaths, the green fluid spewing from his lungs and mouth to spray onto the floor and soak into the soft flooring. They held him as the spasms wracked his body until he straightened and pulled himself from their grasp. No words spoken. Then they stepped back, allowing him space as he pulled off his gloves. Still nothing said. The low thrumming sound reverberated through the dome, along with the muted moans and whimpers and high pitched animal-like cries that emanated from three of the transportation cylinders situated near the main control block, but he ignored them. Instead he looked around, eyes inspecting everything else, the machinery, the small and inadequate personal area with sleeping couches and food preparation section, the even smaller sanitation unit. Half-hooded eyes revealed nothing, no emotion, no reaction as he walked back to the tube to let the door slide shut behind him. He placed a hand on the wall, air hissed and, in front of him, another door opened and he took one step into the second dome.

A grimace twisted his lips. Brow furrowed, he stood there, observing the room, avoiding any close contact with the upright tubes lining the curved walls. The contents ... troubled him. Besides, he did not wish to risk disturbing any of the cables and tubes that snaked across the floor and looped like vines from the machines clustered in the centre of the space.

Time passed. The silence and the things that he saw disturbed his composure and he turned back to the tube to re-enter the small airlock and wait there in the cylindrical prison for a brief moment before the door opened again in front of him.

They had laid it all out on the table; data, records, predictions, all the relevant information that was required for these regular assessments. He sat, read through, frowned on a couple of occasions. They placed a flask on the table next to his hand and he picked it up, sipped, continued reading. Nothing said.

They waited with deference, the thrumming louder now, or perhaps it was that the silence was more intense. They stood there.

He sipped the last of the drink, pushed the flask away and stood up. Nodded once in curt acknowledgement and waited as they lifted his helmet down and held it out. Nothing was said. Words were not needed. They knew what he was thinking, what he had decided. They could continue their experiments for the immediate future, despite the current disappointing outcomes. And the two SHADO captives? They would be transported later, on the next supply craft that was due to arrive. They were a poor substitute for the one that had been intended as a primary target, but the two men might provide some information.

Once gloved up he allowed the fluid to fill his helmet, to trickle into his mouth and pour down his throat down before forcing himself to breathe. A moment of suppressed fear before he relaxed and then, with his lungs filled with the oxygenating liquid, he stepped into the access tube, the door sliding round to enclose him and the metal disc opening to allow him access to the surface. It was with a sense of relief that he climbed the ladder to the welcome warmth of his small compartment, sealing the airlock behind himself then settling into his couch to begin the journey back. Gloved hands manipulated controls and the craft quivered to release itself from the clutch of the river mud before moving away.

Anyone walking by might have noticed a flurry of water, fine bubbles rising and dissipating, a soft glow deep beneath the surface, but it soon faded. Just a trick of the eyes.

On the river bed, deep below the surface, silt dropped from the slow-flowing murky water to cover the circle of metal.


End file.
